Adam and Eve
by Kit Spooner
Summary: After their brief, painful affair at Sakura's wedding, Tomoyo and Eriol run away from their lives and hide out in New Zealand for a while. (The sequel to 'After the Fall') [incomplete]
1. Part 1

**Adam and Eve**

A Sequel to _After the Fall_

by Kit Spooner   
  
  
  


Warnings: If you were too young to read _After the Fall_, then you're too young to read this. Go read one of my other fics. Or better yet, go write something of your own. This fic features lots of sex, heavy consumption of alcohol, abuse of marijuana, periodic foul language, a few bouts of intense, sexual violence, and the usual doses of angst, WAFF, and OOCness. Enjoy.   
  


Disclaimer: Bah! I don't own CCS. I also don't own October Project's song, "Adam and Eve."   
  
  
  


________________________   
  
  
  


_Only ever really one story_

_A boy and a girl_   
_And a dream of the world_   
_An apple, a kiss_   
_A moment of sky_   
_The moment you choose_   
_Without knowing why_   
  
  
  


"You're _where_?!" Sonomi's voice rose to a penetrating shriek. 

"In Auckland," Tomoyo replied calmly, her voice slightly hollow over the long-distance phone line. 

Silence. 

"That's in New Zealand," Tomoyo elaborated gently. 

"I know where Auckland is!" Sonomi snapped, glaring at the receiver as though that particular piece of equipment was responsible for her daughter's inexplicable presence Down Under. 

"Is that Tomoyo-chan?" Fujitaka peered cautiously around the doorframe from the safety of the kitchen. 

"She's in New Zealand!" 

"Oh," said Fujitaka. He smiled vaguely. "That sounds like a nice little vacation for her." 

"She's with that Hiiragizawa boy!" Sonomi's tone of voice indicated clearly just what she thought of Eriol. 

Fujitaka's smile widened, the corners of his eyes crinkling up behind his glasses. "Tell Eriol-kun I say hello!" 

Sonomi ignored him and turned her attention back to her errant offspring. "What on earth are you doing in New Zealand?" 

"I'm taking a nice little vacation, Mother." Tomoyo's smile was almost audible. 

"But you just got home after Sakura-chan's wedding, Tomoyo." Sonomi continued to glower at the phone. "Why do you need another vacation? And what are you doing with that rootless, shifty Hiiragizawa?" 

"We're going to be staying at his chateau down in the Southern Alps." There was a brief pause and Sonomi thought she heard Hiiragizawa's muffled voice in the background, though it could well have been static. "Hiiragizawa-kun doesn't remember the phone number right now, so we'll just have to call you once we arrive. We're spending the night here in Auckland, then flying on to Christchurch tomorrow morning, and then on to the chateau." 

"Where are you staying in Auckland?" Sonomi demanded. It would be a simple thing to quickly charter a plane down to New Zealand and pick up her daughter before the girl did something completely ridiculous. 

"In a hotel," Tomoyo replied smoothly. "With Hiiragizawa-kun." 

"_What?!_" Sonomi's face turned purple and her eyes were bulging slightly. "You're sharing a _room_ with that little creep?" 

"I think we're going to have to pretend that we're married," Tomoyo mused thoughtfully. "If I remember correctly, they tend not to rent out rooms to unmarried couples." 

"You can't sleep in a hotel with him," Sonomi declared in a voice that brooked no opposition. "He'll try to take advantage of you, child!" 

"Too late for that," Tomoyo replied with a hint of laughter. 

Sonomi began to gurgle inarticulately. 

Fujitaka frowned as he watched his housemate hyperventilate. It sounded like Tomoyo was about to trigger another fit of hysterics in Sonomi unless he intervened. "Remember to stay calm, Sonomi-kun," he murmured soothingly. "We don't want a repeat of last month, do we?" He gingerly lay a gentle hand on her arm, hoping that she wouldn't deck him like last time. 

"We've been shacking up ever since the wedding, Mother," Tomoyo continued, heedless of the strange noises her mother was making. "I thought you knew about it?" There was another brief pause. "Oh, Hiiragizawa-kun says we need to finish checking into the hotel. I'll call you from the chateau tomorrow night. And remember not to take it out on Kinomoto-san this time. He's only trying to help you. Bye!" And the line went dead. 

"Deep breaths, Sonomi-kun," Fujitaka urged. 

Sonomi slammed the cordless phone back into its cradle. 

Fujitaka jumped and appeared ready to bolt if it looked like his personal safety was in danger. 

"She's in New Zealand with that little pissant," Sonomi grated, her eyes narrowed to slits. "And she wouldn't tell me which hotel she was staying at. It's going to be a pain in the ass to find her in a city the size of Auckland . . ." She reached for the phone again. 

Fujitaka's grip on her arm firmed. "You shouldn't go after her anyway." He carefully pulled her away from the phone. "She needs time to be alone." 

"She's not alone! And that's the problem!" 

"Just let her go, Sonomi." Fujitaka pulled her into a one-armed hug. 

"But!" Sonomi's back was ramrod straight, her eyes wild with worry and anger. 

"Shhhh." Fujitaka could be very convincingly soothing when he exerted himself. The adrenaline began to work its way out of Sonomi's system and she sagged against the warm support of the man who had once stolen her cousin and now cooked and cleaned and shared her house with her. 

He nudged a nearby floor lamp out of Sonomi's reach, however, just to be safe. He'd been beaned by that lamp once before.   
  
  
  


________________________   
  
  
  


"Thank you for staying with us Mr. and Mrs. Reed," the concierge said through his wide smile. "We hope to see you again soon." He gave a perfunctory sort of bow, the gold accents on his Carlton Hotel livery glinting in the mid-morning light. 

Eriol made a vaguely affirmative sort of noise in response and quickly guided Tomoyo by the elbow out to where their taxi to the airport waited. 

"Nice hotel," Tomoyo pronounced once they were out of earshot of the concierge, "But there was something a little creepy about that man at the desk. I think he might have been trying to look down the front of my dress." 

Eriol grimaced and opened the taxi's door for her. "Well, he _was_ a bit of a pervert, but not the way you'd think." He slid into the car after Tomoyo. 

"What on earth do you mean, Hiiragizawa?" 

"It wasn't _you_ he was staring at, dear," Eriol replied with a sour smile. "The man had a nasty little mind." 

Tomoyo raised a single eyebrow as she gave her lover a quizzical stare. "But certainly being ogled by men is nothing new to you." Her mouth quirked into a faint smile. "You were even flirting with the waiter at the café yesterday." 

"That was different," Eriol said haughtily. "The waiter just thought I was cute. The concierge thought I was cute, but he also thought I'd be cuter if I was perhaps eight or ten years younger." 

Tomoyo wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Okay, you've made your point. How was I supposed to know he was a dirty old man with a fetish for pretty, underage boys?" 

"You weren't, darling," Eriol replied with a rather patronizing pat on the top of Tomoyo's head. 

Tomoyo rolled her eyes at her traveling companion and settled more comfortably into the seat of the taxi. "I need a drink," she muttered, digging through her handbag for the assortment of travel-sized bottles of hard liquor she had nicked from the mini-bar in the hotel room. 

Eriol sighed mournfully. "I need a smoke." 

"Poor Hiiragizawa," Tomoyo said with a truly astonishing amount of false sympathy. "You'll have to wait until we're at this chateau of yours before you can break out _your_ goodies." She snapped the seal off a little bottle of rum and tossed it back in a single swallow. Then she continued to smile serenely at Eriol. 

"You're a lot more vicious than most people give you credit for, Daidouji-san," he noted as he watched her carefully recap the empty rum bottle and stash it in her bag. 

"And does that bother you?" Tomoyo asked curiously. 

"It might frighten off some types of men," Eriol admitted. "I, on the other hand, find it disturbingly attractive." He licked his lips suggestively and reached out for her. 

Tomoyo laughed. "I don't believe it's a very good time for that sort of thing, Hiiragizawa," she said, batting Eriol's roving hands away. "I believe we've scandalized the taxi driver enough already." 

"He can deal with it," Eriol murmured before pressing his mouth to the side of Tomoyo's neck. 

"I think we're almost to the airport," Tomoyo said pointedly before giving Eriol a firm shove that sent him ungently back to his side of the back seat. 

Eriol sulked all the way through the airport terminal and onto the plane, perking up only long enough to suggest that Tomoyo join him in the lavatory for a go at the Mile High Club. 

"You've _got_ to be kidding," Tomoyo told him as she stared in disbelief at Eriol's hopeful expression. 

"It could be fun," Eriol coaxed with a sensual little smirk. 

"You want me to go into a tiny metal box with you, a box designed to accommodate a single midget." Tomoyo's voice was almost cold. "And not only that, but you want to have sex in the little metal box, the box that we _might_ be able to both squeeze into, as long as we don't breathe deeply or try to move our arms." 

"You make it sound so . . ." Eriol looked ready to resume pouting. 

"And when was the last time you were even _inside_ one of those airplane lavatories?" Tomoyo demanded. 

"Um . . ." Eriol prepared to sulk. 

"They smell," Tomoyo said firmly. "And that's final." 

"You are such a stick-in-the-mud, Daidouji," Eriol muttered. 

"Yes," Tomoyo agreed cheerfully as she downed a tiny bottle of scotch. "I certainly am. Now fasten your seatbelt. We're about to take-off." 

Eriol sighed, closed his eyes, and resigned himself for about 75 minutes of acute discomfort until the plane landed in Christchurch on the South Island of New Zealand. Tomoyo, for her part, was pleasantly blitzed by the time the plane got fully airborne. Eriol was coming to understand that Tomoyo drank not only to drown her sorrows, but to cover nerves. The alcohol made Tomoyo an eerily mellow traveler. 

Once the plane had landed and the pair had collected their luggage, Eriol paused outside the airport long enough to smoke a quick joint. "Damn, I feel better now," he announced after crushing the very end of the cigarette under his shoe. 

"Can we please go catch our car to the chateau now?" Tomoyo asked plaintively. She had only two little bottles of liquor left in her handbag and she wasn't really sure how she should ration them for the rest of the trip. 

"Fine, darling," Eriol said with a broad smile as he led Tomoyo to the curb, where a young man in black and green livery tentatively displayed a sign that read 'Reed.' "There's our ride," he said cheerfully. 

The uniformed man confirmed their reservation and then steered them off to the car. "It's a bit of a drive to Te Anau from Christchurch," he told them once his passengers were settled and their luggage was stowed in the trunk. "If you'd like, we can stop at a hostel along the way and you two can get a bite to eat. I'm sure you're famished from your flight." 

Tomoyo and Eriol exchanged a long, measuring glance. Both were tired and hungry, but more importantly, they needed to be alone. It had been far too long since they were able to truly relax in each other's company. In the end, it was that mixture of nerves and lust that prompted Tomoyo to say, "That's alright. We'll just head straight to that Te Anau place, if you don't mind." 

The drive was, indeed, rather long. Fortunately, once Tomoyo finished off her last two bottles of liquor, she dropped off to sleep, her head resting on Eriol's bony shoulder. Her steady breathing and very quiet snores eventually lulled him to sleep as well. Tired as they were, they slept nearly the entire way. 

Te Anau turned out to be a very pretty little resort town nestled in the lower regions of the Southern Alps amidst dense forests of ancient conifers. "Did you two say you were renting a car here?" the driver asked as he maneuvered around a small group of backpackers who were standing in the middle of the road, clustered around a poorly folded map. 

"Mmm, yes," Eriol mumbled, picking a few long, dark strands of hair from his mouth. He wasn't entirely certain why it was that he always ended up swallowing some of Tomoyo's hair. 

"Then I should let you off here," said the driver, steering the car up along the entrance to a small, poorly-labeled car rental agency. "Enjoy your stay in Fiordland!" 

Eriol managed a relatively polite reply as he juggled both his luggage and the still-drowsy Tomoyo. He gave the driver a tip and then lurched into the rental office. 

To his surprise, it took only a few minutes for the woman behind the counter to get their vehicle ready. As requested, a late-model Land Rover was waiting for them and soon Eriol and Tomoyo were on the road again. They drove south, higher up into the mountains, where the air rose in thick, misty waves over the peaks, the updrafts tossing hawks aloft to soar, where the glaciers waited patiently for winter to return to the Southern Alps.   
  
  
  


_Burning like a fever inside you_   
_The head of your skin_   
_And the taste of your lips_   
_A shadow, a storm_   
_A darkening sky_   
_The reason you live_   
_The secret you hide_

  
  


Notes: The next part of this may take a while. I've got too much on my plate right now. But I will get to it. Promise. And then there'll be more sex. Lots more sex.  
  



	2. Part 2

**Adam and Eve  
**A Sequel to _After the Fall  
_by Kit Spooner

Warnings: If you were too young to read _After the Fall_, then you're too young to read this. Go read one of my other fics. Or better yet, go write something of your own. This fic features lots of sex, heavy consumption of alcohol, abuse of marijuana, periodic foul language, a few bouts of intense, sexual violence, and the usual doses of angst, WAFF, and OOCness. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Bah! I don't own CCS. I also don't own October Project's song, "Adam and Eve."

Additional Notes: Most of this chapter has been written for months, I just kind of forgot about it. When digging through old files after posting the latest chapter of "Laid," I discovered this, finished up the last little bit, did some minor edits, and slapped it up on FF.N. So it's . . . kind of haphazard. Commentary is appreciated.

* * *

Part Two 

_And God said  
__The reason had hung from the tree  
__But I feel the reason hanging on me  
__I'm free of my innocence  
__Falling too far  
__I'm helpless to change  
__I'm hopelessly lost  
__I'm all that you are_

It was, perhaps, a good thing that Tomoyo passed out almost immediately upon entering the Land Rover. The drive down to the chateau took Eriol and his unconscious lover up into the mountains via winding, gut-wrenching roads that twisted around sheer cliffs and eased perilously close to wispy waterfalls. Eriol would have appreciated the breathtaking vistas a lot more had he not been concentrating so hard on staving off nausea and keeping the vehicle on the road. It didn't help that he was tired and irritable and horny as hell.

Tomoyo slept on, blissfully unaware of the glares Eriol was periodically sending her way.

They reached the chateau several hours later. Tomoyo was still sleeping, her last tiny bottle of vodka clutched adorably between her curled hands. Eriol was furious.

"God dammit!" He slammed the door behind him and then stomped over to Tomoyo's side of the Land Rover. "How the hell can she still be asleep!"

Eriol ended up tossing Tomoyo over his shoulder and dragging her into the house and up the stairs before flinging her rather ungraciously on the king-sized bed in the master bedroom. She mumbled something about sweet boys with dirty mouths, then rolled over and began to snore softly. This certainly didn't help Eriol's vile mood.

When he returned to the car to haul their luggage inside he discovered that it had started to rain. He strode outside to yank the boot of the car open and pull out the bags.

"Fuck," he muttered as his glasses promptly fogged up.

The slate-gray sky rumbled in response and the rain began to come down harder.

_Daidouji is going to be in a _lot_ of trouble when she wakes up,_ Eriol decided as he slogged through the deepening mud, toting as many bags as possible. He couldn't quite carry all the luggage at once, but he managed to get most of it inside before the lightning began to flash. _That girl owes me _big_ time. And I know how _I_ want repayment._

But Eriol was a patient sort of man, having spent a ridiculous number of years as an eleven-year-old while he waited for Sakura to show up. He could handle waiting for Tomoyo to wake up and, more importantly, sober up. So he settled himself on the covered porch, rolled a joint, and smoked pensively as he stared out into the impenetrable New Zealand mist.

For the umpteenth time, he asked himself what he thought he was doing here, thousands of miles away from either of his homes, co-habitating with a girl he had to admit he barely knew, despite their recent affair. Tomoyo was as much of an enigma as she'd ever been, to Eriol. She just didn't _work_ the way the rest of the world seemed to. Which was why it seemed so very bizarre to Eriol that she would seek solace in such a mundane vice as alcohol. He'd taken her for the more exotic type, as far as debaucheries went.

Yet Tomoyo was far more inventive in bed than Eriol had ever anticipated. Eriol had the equivalent of centuries of periodic sexual experience to draw from, but Tomoyo was simply a natural. He knew, through inference and a few careful questions, that while Eriol was certainly not her first, Tomoyo was not what one would call 'experienced.' Yet she was fearless in the bedroom, innovative and adventurous, despite her demure socialite exterior. And the fact that she was heartbreakingly beautiful certainly helped.

Her beauty frightened him, though. It was somehow both fragile — like delicate, brittle shell — and tremendously strong and durable. Even as a child, she'd never seemed quite human to him, not quite of this world. And the newly-sharp angles of her face were painted pale, the colors of the mists that seemed so prevalent down in the mountains. Her hair was his favorite of her many lovely features though, sweeping behind her like a dusky veil, thick and silky enough that he tended to find his fingers tangled through it when he wasn't paying attention. Oh, yes, it made an elegant hand-hold, when he was holding her still for his kisses, or pulling her face sharply toward him, her lips darting across his heated flesh — her tongue — his hips bucking as she drew him deep, cradling him in the warmth of her mouth . . .

The only times her skin was ever warm to the touch was when they were having sex, he realized. Her flesh was generally cool against his sometimes-feverish heat; her hands were downright cold.

The rain, by now, had slaked off and some sort of broad-winged bird was soaring out over the valley the chateau overlooked, a hawk or something, he supposed. It looked so wild and peaceful and _balanced_. Eriol watched the bird for several minutes, wondering if hawks ever had to deal with cold, beautiful females who were hard on the heart and the mind, if undeniably easy on the eyes.

Eriol vaguely remembered reading somewhere that hawks mated for life.

He quickly pushed the thought away and stubbed out the brief remains of his joint before his fingers were burned. He continued to gaze out over the pearl-gray and green valley, but fell asleep barely too soon to see the second hawk join the first in a spiraling dance upwards through the gentle, sun-warmed thermals.

* * *

Tomoyo awoke groggy and disoriented on an enormous bed that was not her own. It was a few heart-stopping moments of panic before she remembered where she was and more importantly, _why_.

Hiiragizawa.

New Zealand.

And most important of all, a place with plenty of privacy where they could revel in the pleasures of the flesh as much as they wanted.

Mouth curving into a slightly lascivious smile, she hauled herself out of bed, ran a hand ineffectively through her hair, then padded off barefoot in search of something to drink. It took less time than she expected, since it appeared as though Eriol kept a fully-stocked wet-bar at this chateau, despite the fact that he claimed to neither drink nor visit New Zealand often. She selected a bottle of Cuervo and a small, cobalt-blue glass and headed off in search of a good place to drink.

Eriol himself was missing, but she eventually discovered him asleep on the porch, his head cocked at an uncomfortable-looking angle and his hair ruffled by the breeze. The remains of three smoked cigarettes were smashed into the railing and the slowly fading scent of marijuana filled her nostrils. Tomoyo sighed and sat down opposite him by the steps, leaning against one of the wooden supports and pouring herself a glass of liquor.

Still Eriol slept, even after three glasses of tequila. Growing bored and a little flirty, Tomoyo amused herself by snaking her feet up against him, running her toes up his leg, pausing briefly to nudge his crotch, then continuing to move up. It was only when she decided to see if she could remove his necktie using only her feet that he began to stir. She immediately let her feet drop to the floor next to him and waited patiently for him to finish waking.

He blinked blearily at her. "Drinking _again_?" he asked, a little petulantly.

Tomoyo frowned. "I was just a little thirsty," she defended, gazing at him through her eyelashes. That was something she'd learned worked very well on him.

"You're a drunk, Daidouji," he declared, looking just as disagreeable as Tomoyo felt.

"I am not, you asshole," she replied scathingly. "Though I'm not the only one to be indulging in a bit of vice," she noted, nudging the remains of the joints with her toe.

This time, he actually _growled_ at her. From most people it might have sounded a bit absurd, but from Eriol it was somehow menacing. She was startled into pulling her feet back towards herself.

"You know _nothing_ about my vices, woman," he snarled. In a single, fluid motion he lunged and was suddenly very close, his breath heating her face. She had no idea that he could move that fast. She also realized how angry he was.

"Hiiragizawa-kun . . ." Tomoyo leaned away from him and felt the solid bulk of the wooden support hard against her back. She shivered in the clammy air and watched as Eriol glanced down at her legs, haphazardly bared as her calf-length skirt was hiked up nearly to her hips, shoulders and collarbone exposed, camisole straps askew. She felt her breasts prickle in reaction, both fear and desire welling in her chest and fluttering like a trapped bird.

He fell upon her like a starving man, mouth fastening to hers as his hands slid quickly up her legs to bare her hips. Her head cracked back against the column of the porch and for a moment she was disoriented by his closeness and the reek of marijuana in his hair. Detachment allowed her to realize that she didn't have much choice of what would happen next, even should she fight against Eriol's onslaught. Instead, once her dizziness cleared, she pushed back and bent to bite his earlobe sharply.

They weren't making love, she realized dimly. It was more of a battle, a violent give-and-take.

Eriol tore her skirt up the side in his eagerness to divest her of it and her small, sharp fingernails tore into the skin of his back in retaliation, drawing a small amount of blood. He hurt her in the process of their joining, and she hurt him right back with teeth and nails and blows to the ribs.

Part-brawl, part-sex, the debacle didn't take very long and by the time they separated, panting and disheveled and still mostly dressed, their various wounds were beginning to ache in response to the cool air of the mountains.

"Oh, shit," Eriol muttered as he felt around for his glasses.

"Ow," Tomoyo added in her usual soft tones. The lump on the back of her head was throbbing in time with her overactive heartbeat.

Once his glasses were returned to their proper perch atop his nose, Eriol began examining himself for damage and surreptitiously doing the same to his erstwhile lover. He noticed a surprising handful of long, dark hair the color of smoke that he seemed to have grabbed during the fracas.

"Sorry about your hair," he told her.

"You're worried about my _hair_?" Tomoyo murmured in disbelief. "I don't think I'll be able to walk straight for a week." Her head was bent as she examined the bruises rising on her breasts and arms. Her hair served its usual purpose, veiling her expression from prying eyes.

Eriol's expression twisted. "Are you alright, Daidouji?" he asked, his voice crackling with worry. "I didn't mean to hurt you I just . . . lost control briefly."

Tomoyo tilted her face up, revealing a slightly sheepish smile. "I know, Hiiragizawa, I know. I hurt you back just as much." She reached out and touched his swollen lower lip where she'd bitten him rather hard. "Maybe coming down here was a bad idea?"

Eriol sighed and ran a hand over his ribs, making sure none had been broken by her small, hard punches. "You might be right, Daidouji," he agreed wearily, suddenly too tired to truly deal with what they'd just done.

They sat crumpled next to each other on the porch for a long time, not speaking as they stared out over the deep valley below. A thick-frosted mist hung heavy above trees so green they were nearly black, lending the scene a strangely monochromatic feel to it: white over gray over black.

"I don't want to leave," Tomoyo said abruptly, slouching closer to Eriol's warmth. "I like it down here. And I like you."

"But we'll just hurt each other more, Daidouji," Eriol reminded her sadly.

"We only do that when emotions come into the picture," Tomoyo replied. "Or when I've been drinking too much."

"Or when I'm stoned," Eriol added.

"Chemical dependency aside, Hiiragizawa," Tomoyo continued. "We just need to remember to keep our relationship . . . well, platonic."

"I usually don't sleep with my platonic friends," Eriol noted with a faint note of humor in his voice.

"You know what I mean," Tomoyo snapped, both irritable and amused. "I'm not ready for you to be anything more than a good friend and . . . well . . ."

"Fuckbuddy?" Eriol suggested.

"I suppose that works," Tomoyo admitted. "I can't think of anything less vulgar to describe what we do." She shrugged. "Whatever we are, we're not in a romantic relationship. You don't love me and I don't love you."

"I'm no Sakura," Eriol agreed.

"And I'm nothing like Kaho," Tomoyo shot back. "I'm Daidouji Tomoyo, and not your love. I'm barely your friend, most of the time."

"You wound me, dearest," Eriol teased lightly.

"And pet-names won't do either," Tomoyo added firmly. "We are not in love and we will not be falling in love, Hiiragizawa." Her expression was intense and serious as she paused to stare him down. "And I can tell that despite your joking, you understand."

"I promise not to fall in love with you," Eriol told her with a faint smile that almost reached his eyes.

"And I promise not to fall in love with you," Tomoyo echoed before breathing a deep sigh of relief.

"So I guess this means we're actually friends now," Eriol murmured, absently rubbing his bruised ribs.

"Yes, Hiiragizawa," Tomoyo said. "And if you think you can go without a smoke for the whole evening, I'll stay sober enough to cook us both dinner." She gingerly picked herself up off the wooden veranda.

Eriol hauled himself to his feet. "You've got yourself a deal, Daidouji."

Later, as Eriol poured tea to accompany Tomoyo's slapdash sandwiches, he wondered why he didn't feel more hurt over Tomoyo's roundabout rejection of him. It was unusual experience for someone to be worried that _he_ was going to fall in love and make an ass of himself. That usually wasn't the way it happened.

He glanced at Tomoyo and watched her take very small bites of sandwich. She really was quite pretty and completely heartless.

Kind of like him.

Eriol wondered how long they could remain safely wrapped in their warm, consequence-free cocoon down here at the bottom edge of the world.

When he finished his tea, he carefully avoided reading the answer in the leaves scattered along the bottom of his mug.

* * *

_I've fallen from all I know  
__To keep you here  
__I need you here  
__I wonder how far to go  
__Without you here_

Final Note: Again, this is low on my priorities and I don't know when I'll get around to finishing it. There's probably a chapter or two to go, but don't hold your breath. I'm slow and lazy.


End file.
